Ronald Weasley and the Midlife Crises
by Estora
Summary: Things have been a bit strange for Ron over the last couple of years so he hasn't had much time to dedicate to his midlife crisis, let alone everyone else's. Even less, now that he's stumbled across a Ministry conspiracy. And all of Hufflepuff has disappeared, but no-one's really worried about that.
1. from the journal of ronald weasley I

_Disclaimer:__ This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J. K. Rowling. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended._

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><p>Welcome, readers, to the third story in the <span>journals &amp; ice cream<span> series. At this point, you probably do need to read the first two in order for this story to make sense, but I suppose it can _maybe_ make sense on its own, if you take into account that I've written Ron as the kind of guy who doesn't spend much time giving copious amounts of backstory. (This is set about two and a half years after _Perils of Dating._) So I'd still recommend reading the others; don't worry, they're only 11 chapters each! Please note that the style is intentionally less descriptive and flowing than Draco's journals because I'm writing in what I consider to be "in character" for Ron.

30/01/13: _Ronald Weasley and the Midlife Crises_ has recently undergone a total rewrite. It bears a lot in common with the original story I had posted here, but I realised when I almost got to the end that I'd written myself into a corner! So this is the rewrite, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

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><p><strong>Ronald Weasley and the Midlife Crises<strong>

one

_from the completely unnecessary journal of Ronald Weasley_

_10.08.2021_

I'm gonna kill Harry.

* * *

><p><em>11.08.2021<em>

No, I'm going to kill _Malfoy_. Harry wouldn't have gotten this stupid idea if it wasn't for that git.

_Later_

I mean, diaries? What the _hell_? Who keeps diaries at our age? Malfoy, that's who, and it's sad.

What the ruddy hell am I supposed to write in this thing anyway? If Harry and the stupid Auror shrinks expect me to be all, "_Dear Diary_" I'm shoving this useless thing so far up Harry's arse that it'll come out of his scar.

I dunno what he was thinking. Took a few too many spells to head, if you ask me – that, or he's got a secret crush on Malfoy like the rest of the magical world at the moment.

What's the point in making us all keep diaries? It's like some sort of lame-arse, cheap-shit form of therapy that none of us need, 'cause the Ministry's stingy and Harry's trying to be New Age. (Bunch of bullshit, if you ask me.) Hermione says it'll be good for me, but I dunno if I should listen to her – she's really uptight these days.

I mean, yeah, Malfoy's diary was good for a laugh, but I wouldn't want anyone to read mine. If I had one, that is. But I don't, because I'm not a middle-aged man with receding bleached hair. And this doesn't count either. Because this is not my diary and I don't plan on writing in it. I'm just venting because this is stupid and Harry's a git. And Malfoy's a git as well.

So there.

* * *

><p><em>16.08.2021<em>

Dearest darling lovely diary,

Today is Monday, and today I'm feeling _irritated_ because I'm being forced to write in you by Head Auror Harry Potter. Apparently this'll be good therapy and I have to keep writing because it'll make me _feel_ better.

Hugs and butterfly kisses,

Ron Weasley

PS: Harry, if you ever read this, you're a git.

* * *

><p><em>19.08.2021<em>

Harry wants me to be serious about this thing. Like I don't have enough to do already! I tried to pull my Best Friends With The Head Auror card out on him today and asked if I really had to keep the diary.

"Journal," he said. Okay, _journal_. Sounds better than diary. "And yes, you do have to keep it."

"But why? I'm fine!"

"It's for all of the Aurors, which means you have to participate," he said. "Look, the project is only being run until the end of January."

"_Harry…_"

"All you have to do is put in a couple of entries about your feelings, or just a record of your day. Once a week, at _least_. It's not like I'm asking for a Potions essay."

That made me shudder. I scowled at him. "Just until January?"

"_End_ of January," Harry said. "Please, Ron. If you do it, the others will do it."

"Malfoy's been doing it for years and it didn't catch on!"

Because it's _stupid_. Duh. Anyway, basically, my attempt at _not writing in this thing_ didn't work. I dunno if I even really need to write this – who's checking? Are they monitoring what we write? Who the hell are 'they', anyway? The shrinks, right?

Oh, and then I ran into Auror Ferret himself at the Ministry.

"Hello, Weasley."

"Don't talk to me," I growled and brandished this useless journal at him. "We're not friends anymore. I demoted you. We're back to being semi-non-antagonistic-parents-of-children-who-are-friends."

"Don't you think you're overreacting just a bit –?"

"Your _face_ is overreacting!"

"…Right," Malfoy said. "Um. I'm going to talk to Potter."

Yeah, right, more like he's going to sweet-talk the press again. Seriously, he does it _all the time_. With Livia. It's like, we _get_ it already – Livia Malfoy, sweetheart of the magical world with her Pureblood, reformed Daddy as a working-class wizard. I'm rolling my eyes so hard right now.

I'm not dissing Livia. She's cute. It's just – everyone suddenly loves Malfoy. And yeah, he's changed and all, but bloody hell.

Anyway, my hand's getting tired. Like I don't have to write out enough reports as it is, now I've got to write in this thing! Screw that.

* * *

><p><em>31.08.2021<em>

Even Hermione's telling me to write in this thing. She wouldn't leave the room until I opened it! I'm sure Harry told her to keep an eye on me. He's gonna get it so hard when this 'project' rubbish is over.

So. Today. Hugo's started up with his Muggle school nonsense again, and I don't know why. He liked it at Hogwarts last year.

Except, you know, Hufflepuff. _Hufflepuff._

Anyway, it's his second year this year. He goes back tomorrow, and tonight he came up to me and said, "Hey, Dad, can I go to a Muggle school instead?"

Look, I've got nothing against Livia. But _come on_. "No, Hugo!" I said. "We've been over this already!"

"But –"

"You're a wizard!" A Hufflepuff wizard. "You're staying at Hogwarts."

"I can still learn magic!"

It's like the ultimate revenge or something. My daughter is best friends with Malfoy's son, my son is best friends with Malfoy's non-magical daughter, and Malfoy's popular again.

I argued with Hugo some more. I'd have gotten Hermione to argue with him (because she's really good when it comes to debating – she wins, every time. Scary, that woman) but she was off doing her Equal-Rights-For-Everything thing. Anyway, I gave up and said, "Can we make a deal?"

Hugo looked suss. "Depends on the deal."

That is _such_ a Malfoy thing to say. When I was twelve, whatever deal my parents – well, Mum – gave me, I bloody well took. "If you finish Hogwarts and don't ask to go to a Muggle school for the next six years, I'll give you the okay to date Livia when you're finished going through puberty."

"Ew, Dad! Why would I _date_ her? She's my best friend!"

Yeah, he says that now. I'm so holding that against him when he gets older.

* * *

><p><em>1.09.2021<em>

Well, the kids are off at school. Thank Merlin for that, too. I've just about had enough of that platform. I've got one hell of a nasty headache – I swear those kids are getting louder and louder every year. Ginny says I'm just getting old, but if I'm getting old then so is she 'cause she's only a year younger.

Speaking of Ginny, actually, I'm a bit worried about her. We had our "Kids Are At School" celebratory dinner earlier tonight, at her and Harry's house and she had some sort of freak out. Generally she's the one who feeds people now, because in between her Quidditch stuff she's been learning how to cook. Harry used to do it.

"Do you want any more to eat, Draco?"

She'd been doing that the whole night. Actually, according to Harry, she's been overfeeding _everyone_ for a couple of months now. Malfoy's plate was still pretty full. "Oh, no thank you," he said. He can really pull the _awkward_ look off – it's hilarious. "It's really fine –"

"No, I insist," Ginny said, and shovelled some more chicken and mash onto his place. "You're far too skinny –"

And then she broke off with a bit of a moan and her eyes widened. "Oh my God," she said, glancing at all of us. "I'm turning into my _mother_." She grabbed Malfoy's plate away. "Stop eating! Don't eat anything!"

Malfoy had his fork poised in midair on its way to a non-existent plate. "But I'm hungry," he protested weakly as Ginny walked away with his food.

"No you're not! You're fat!"

"Ha," I said. "Your hair is receding _and_ you're fat!"

Malfoy glared but it was really half-hearted.

Thing is, I'm fine with him when we're not working and he's not plastered all over the front cover of the _Prophet_. I dunno why, that just irritates me. And it's not like he's being a git or anything like he used to at school. He's been smiling a lot these last two years. He's totally getting some on the side, but he won't 'fess up to who it is. The only reason I know it's not Hermione is because she's always happy after sex and she's been grumpy for a good six months now. Also I don't think Malfoy is into Muggleborns. I mean, yeah, his daughter's a Squib and he does all kinds of awesome shit for charities now, but if he ever gets a girlfriend again (hell, maybe he's got one now) I'm betting she's a Pureblood.

But yeah, Ginny. She's not the only one. Harry's been in this "perpetual state of worry" for a couple of years now. (Hermione's words, not mine.) Personally I don't think there's anything wrong with him except the occasional stress-out about the Auror budget cuts. That Giulia Gilbert – I really don't like her as Minister. I don't like her at all, actually. To think all those years ago we had bets on Percy running for Minister. But, nope, he turns around and becomes an Unspeakable and I _still_ don't know how the bloody hell that happened.

Kinda wish he'd gone for a boring admin job, though. I feel sorry for his kids, 'cause they don't get to see him much. I'd hate to not see my kids as often as possible.

I've written a lot. Two days in a row, at that! This'll tide Harry over for the next couple of weeks or so, right?

Stupid project.


	2. from the journal of ronald weasley II

_Disclaimer:__ This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J. K. Rowling. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended._

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><p><strong>Ronald Weasley and the Midlife Crises<strong>

two

_from the completely unnecessary journal of Ronald Weasley, continued_

_25.09.2021_

I'm rebelling and write a journal entry instead of doing my paperwork. If Harry doesn't like it then it's his own fault. He can't have his cake and eat it too.

Although, I've always thought that was a pretty stupid saying. What's the point of having a cake if you can't eat it?

Nothing much has been happening. Malfoy's driving me insane – driving everyone insane, actually, with Pantera's old cold cases. I get that he's still chuffed to be an Auror, but blimey, you'd think the buzz would have worn off by now. I heard it mentioned that he might be up for Best Auror of the Month, and Harry keeps mentioning that he's done wonders for the Non-Magical Crimes Department, so that'll give him an ego boost. Not that he needs it.

Also, I'm sick of seeing his face in the Witch Weekly. Not that I read the Witch Weekly. Rose has a subscription and leaves her copies around the house. Load of trash, if you ask me.

Business at WWW is going well.

* * *

><p><em>26.09.2021<em>

And, yep, front-page news again in the _Prophet_. I mean, bloody hell! Doesn't Malfoy have a job? Work? How does he find the _time_ for this? I'm holding down two jobs and it's hard enough as it is!

The _Prophet_ started calling him "Lord" Malfoy about a year back. I'm pretty sure the original article was supposed to be sarcastic – you know, mocking his efforts with Livia's involvement in the magical world and how _Lord_ Draco Malfoy thinks he can do whatever he pleases – but it totally backfired because now everyone calls him Lord Malfoy with complete seriousness and he never corrected them.

…Fair enough, I guess. I wouldn't correct someone if they called me a Lord.

Lord Weasley. Hmm. Yeah, I could get used to that.

* * *

><p><em>29.09.2021<em>

I hate this journal. Harry and Hermione said it was supposed to make us all _feel_ better. Fat lot of good it's doing!

So. Problems and recount. Therapy and all that. Hermione's having an existential crisis.

"I feel like I haven't done anything with my life, Ron!"

She said that last night, _just_ after we'd turned out the lights. Of all the times… I mean, bloody hell, _really? We're doing this now?_

I pretended I was half asleep and muttered "yep" the way I always do. It's a pretty standard response – gets me out of a lot of conversations – but it didn't work this time. She rolled over (and I got a mouthful of her hair) and cried, "You think so too!"

I had to do a _lot_ of fast-talking, so she's not angry at _me_, but now she wants to be a lawyer. She's already an activist for everything under the sun and she's never been_not_ busy, so I don't know anymore. I just smile and nod and act supportive these days.

* * *

><p><em>2.10.21<em>

Damn, Hufflepuff.

I mean, it's Hufflepuff. Hufflepuff, right? They're the, you know, _good _kids of the school. The ones who behave and shit.

Details are a bit sketchy, but I'm almost positive Hugo had something to do with it. I should have checked his trunk properly before I sent him off to Hogwarts – last year he lost his House about a hundred points all up because of his experiments on Muggle technology. So nothing's been confirmed yet but somehow Hugo, because of his scientific disasters he likes to call "inventions", managed to lose Hufflepuff 2000 points.

In the first month of the term.

They were sitting on _minus_ 1930 points. I mean, holy crap, that's pretty impressive as it is, right? But nooooo, they just had to take things further.

All of freakin' Hufflepuff has disappeared. Just completely gone.

Hermione's telling me to take deep breaths, but I'm not panicking. I don't know how _she's_ being calm about this, though. It could be the wine she's had. Because, oh yeah, our son has disappeared.

And bloody Neville, that stupid letter he sent us – "Please don't panic, but your kid vanished."

Apparently it's happened like four times before. Any time the Hufflepuffs lose an obscene amount of points they just vanish._ For the whole year_. And no-one ever finds out where they go or how they do it.

Blimey. I'm going to crack open another bottle to share with Hermione.

Freakin' Hufflepuff, man.

* * *

><p><em>27.10.21<em>

Harry Floo'd today to whine about Ginny again but I didn't pay much attention. Some more about her refusing to share the housework load or not fixing dinner on alternate nights anymore.

"C'mon, Ron, what do you do with Hermione when she's in a mood?"

Look, I know he's my best friend and all but there are some things even best friends don't tell each other.

"Are you writing in your journal?"

"Yes," I lied. It wasn't really, though, 'cause I'm writing in it now. Not that it'll even _matter_ – when's he ever gonna read this? He's such a hen-pecker. If Ginny's worried she's turning into Mum, she's got _nothing_ on Harry.

Anyway, he left after that. So here is a summary of my life right now: Hermione wants to be a lawyer, Ginny thinks she's turning into mum, Harry is in a perpetual state of worry, my son is missing, and I still have to write in this stupid piece of shit.

Effemel.


	3. correspondence I

_Disclaimer:__ This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J. K. Rowling. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended._

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><p><strong>Ronald Weasley and the Midlife Crises<strong>

three

_correspondence_

_17.10.21_

Dear Rose,

Remember when you were ten and you wished you were an only child? SURPRISE!

Nah, I'm just kidding, it's pretty rubbish that Hufflepuff's disappeared. What exactly happened with Hugo, do you know? Neville mentioned something about him almost blowing up a corridor.

Your Mum's going spare but keeping herself distracted by consoling Muggle parents of children who were in Hufflepuff and brandishing her law textbooks all over the place. Anyway, I hope you're doing okay. How are classes going so far?

Love,

Dad

* * *

><p><em>29.10.21<em>

Dear Dad,

Ha, ha.

I'm fine. Most of the students think it's absolutely hilarious that the 'Puffs have disappeared. I'm actually just a bit puzzled about it all, and worried about Hugo. I haven't heard anything from him, but apparently this is something of a Hufflepuff tradition – they always come back at the end of the year. I always thought they were a bit of an odd House.

What happened was, Hugo tried to spell a mobile phone so that it could get reception at the school. It… didn't work.

I heard about Mum's sudden law obsession. I hope she doesn't run herself into the ground with work.

Classes are going well, mostly. I'm still first in all my classes except Transfiguration and Potions – but I _don't_ need tutoring from Scorpius or Albus! I'll beat them on my own.

James has been acting weird though. He's been reading a heap of history books lately, ever since Uncle Harry bought him a pile for his birthday last year. Last week he started taking over History of Magic! He fanned Professor Binns into the corner of the room and started teaching, and skipped out on some of his other classes to do it. Should I be worried?

Anyway, everything is okay. I'll be home for Christmas.

Love,

Rose

PS: Happy Halloween!

* * *

><p><em>7.11.21<em>

Potter,

Strange about those Hufflepuff kids going missing. I always thought they were a bunch of odd people.

Listen, I need your permission to reopen the Jackson Mills case. Pantera closed it (rather, let it go cold, the lazy bastard) two years ago and I've finally caught up on the backlog. I'm making it more important than I had it before – I've been investigating and I think the case is far more complicated than it appears. I don't think it was a simple mugging. Mills was in the same post-Hogwarts Potions course as Katerina Kingson and was attacked and killed on his way home from the 2018 Annual Westminster Potions Conference. Pantera classified it as a mugging because the only thing found on Mills's body was an empty wallet.

When you see Teddy next, tell him I'm not giving him a pay rise unless he starts working more hours and stops bringing Victoire to the office. I've had to replace my desk _three times_ in the last two years.

D. Malfoy

* * *

><p><em>10.11.21<em>

Malfoy,

Hufflepuff has always been very unique.

I think you're right about the Mills/Kingson coincidence. Go ahead and open the case and see if anything else turns up.

As for Teddy: he stopped being my responsibility the moment you tempted him with money. You have no-one to blame for him but yourself! I'm not paying for the desks, either. Just tell him to hurry up and propose or something.

H. Potter

* * *

><p><em>19.11.21<em>

Dear Ron,

You never come around anymore! How are you and Hermione? I heard about Hugo when Hufflepuff disappeared. I have to say, the Hufflepuff crowd have always been a bit _odd_, if you know what I mean, so it's not _unexpected_. But I do hope he'll be all right and that he'll be back soon. You let me and your father know the instant you hear anything about him, Ronald! You and your siblings need to come around more often, or at least some of my grandchildren! It's so sad when they're all off at school.

I wanted to ask about Ginny - have you spoken to her recently? She keeps sending back the cooking books I give her! Talk some sense into her, please! I'm sending a copy of _Magical Marge's Magnificent Macaroons_ for you to pass on to her.

Much love,

Mum

* * *

><p><em>24.11.21<em>

Ron! If Mum sends you anything asking about the cooking books do _not_ do anything she says! And don't you _dare_ send me of those recipe books because I don't want them, especially not that macaroon one she tried to give me the other week. I gained four kilos alone from macaroons! I know Mum says it's okay to look "healthy" which is her version of "fat" but I'm a Quidditch professional, Ron! I can't afford to have that extra weight!

PS: Ron, it's Harry. Are you still writing in your journal?

* * *

><p><em>27.11.21<em>

Blimey, Ginny, chill out! You're not going to turn into Mum by accepting a couple of cookbooks! Unless you're about to pop out four more kids, I dunno why you're stressing out so much. If anyone's turning in our mother, it's Harry.

PS: _Yes, mother._

* * *

><p><em>1.12.21<em>

**RETURNED TO SENDER**

FORWARD TO:  
>HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY<p>

Hugo Weasley  
>Weasley House, St. Andrew's Road<br>Avon, Portbury  
>Somerset BS24 9AY, UK<p>

Dear Hugo,

I wrote a letter to you shortly after Dad told me Hufflepuff disappeared, but it was sent back to me. I hope this letter reaches you. I haven't heard from you since your last letter in September. Dad has told me not to worry and that Hufflepuff has disappeared before, but it isn't like you to not reply.

Even if you don't get this letter, I promised that I'd write about school.

I'm in my first year of senior school, as you know. The teachers are a lot stricter and the classes harder, but they're a lot of fun. History is still my favourite – we're covering ancient Egypt, which I know you'd enjoy – but I love English a lot as well. We looked at Shakespeare a bit last year but we're doing our first proper study of one of his comedies, _A Midsummer Night's Dream_. I think you'd find it a bit silly, though – Muggles have very enjoyable notions of magic.

Speaking of magic, I've been keeping up with my magical theory lessons. I sometimes wish Dad wouldn't insist upon them – it isn't as though I'll ever actually be able to employ them. Scorpius has given me some of his old textbooks but – and please, don't tell anyone! – I get upset when I look at them. I know it's silly and I know I can't change what is, but I… I wish I had been born magical. Dad's doing his best to keep me part of the magical world but it's hard because I know people still call be a 'Squib' behind my back, and some of the girls at my school think I'm odd.

But you don't need to hear about that! Sorry for putting a downer on this letter. Sometimes I feel like you're the only person I can talk to about this, even if you might not reply.

I hope you're safe and well. It'll be your 13th birthday in a fortnight; I'll write again then.

Please write back and let me know you're all right.

Love,

Livia

* * *

><p><em>10.12.21<em>

Hey George,

Would you mind watching the store for the next two weeks? I'm needed double-time at the Ministry because a bunch of idiots thought it would be funny to try and break into Gringotts.

Thanks.

Ron

PS: Don't let Mum send you any cookbooks to give to Ginny. It's not worth it.

* * *

><p><em>11.12.21<em>

Ron,

It's Christmas. I'm not doing it on my own. I don't care what kind of schedule Harry has you on, you make sure you get that lazy arse of yours down to the shop and pull your hours! That, or pry Teddy out of Malfoy's grip and make him work for us.

George

PS: You warned me about three days too late.

PPS: Is Hermione still doing her weird law thing? I've got an early Christmas present for her! It's just a prototype but I think she'll appreciate it. It's a De-stresser! Just what she needs, yeah? Last time I saw her, I think her hair was falling out.

* * *

><p>11.12.21<p>

You absolute bloody prat, that banana is disgusting, what the hell is wrong with you?

If you want Teddy you can talk to Malfoy yourself – I tried to ask him the last time we met up for ice cream and he just said that he's not giving up his hired help. So I asked Victoire instead and she's happy to help out at WWW instead of me.

* * *

><p><em>15.12.21<em>

**RETURNED TO SENDER**

FORWARD TO:  
>HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY<p>

Hugo Weasley  
>Weasley House, St. Andrew's Road<br>Avon, Portbury  
>Somerset BS24 9AY, UK<p>

Dear Hugo,

Well, your last letter was returned and I think this one probably will too. But for what it's worth: happy birthday. I'm enclosing your present as well, but I don't know if you'll get it.

I miss you, and I still hope to see you around Christmas.

Love,

Livia

* * *

><p><em>17.12.21<em>

Percy,

Can you come to my office as soon as you can? I need to talk to you about something.

Harry


	4. from the journal of ronald weasley III

_Disclaimer:__ This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J. K. Rowling. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended._

* * *

><p><strong>Ronald Weasley and the Midlife Crises<strong>

four

_from the completely unnecessary journal of Ronald Weasley, continued_

_15.12.21_

Disclaimer: I still think this diary stuff is stupid. So, first entry of December. I've been a bit slack. So what?

Yesterday was pretty average. I tripped over one of Hermione's law books last night and I think I strained my ankle.

Hogwarts sent the kids back home a week earlier than usual for Christmas – they came back yesterday. Probably 'cause of Hufflepuff – not that it really does me and Hermione much good, since one of our kids _is_ in Hufflepuff!

Anyway, Harry and Ginny brought James, Al, and Lily over yesterday. Wasn't really the same without Hugo, but the kids didn't seem too worried. Pretty chill, if anything. I heard them talking as I walked past the living room earlier:

"Yo, sis!" James said to Lily.

"Whaddup, bro?"

"The shizz, yo."

"That's cooltastic, my man!"

Modern talk is strange, but hey, if that's what's happening.

Later I asked James about taking over the History of Magic classes, though more out of concern for his mental health than any actual interest. I mean, History of Magic? Really? Harry's and Ginny's son? Blows my mind. He says that Harry got him interested in history when he gave him a history book for his birthday last year. And then he started paying attention to Binns (seriously, who _does _that?) and decided to make the class interesting because apparently the history of magic is interesting.

_Apparently._

* * *

><p>17.12.21<p>

I'm only writing this now so I don't have to later. Two entries in two days, geeze…

Spent the day at the Ministry. Thankfully the Gringotts stuff is all wrapped up now – bunch of stupid kids who thought it'd be hilarious to break into the bank. Not so funny now that they're cursed fifty shades of fucked up! Also not funny is the sheer amount of paperwork I have about it. Waste of time.

Anyway. Today was a bit stranger than usual, but more or less average. I ran into Percy at work – don't often do that, since he's usually locked away in the Department of Mysteries – as I was on my way up to talk to Harry. He was coming out of Harry's office. Looked a bit frazzled.

"You okay, Perce?" I asked.

Percy did this weird double take at me and blinked. "Yes, Ron. Fine. Thanks. How are you?"

"You know, hanging in there."

"Good," he said. "Excellent. I'm – very glad to hear it." Then he added, "How's the diary coming along?"

Percy's become a bit cheekier than I'd like. I mean, at least way back when he was predictable. Now I don't know what the heck to expect.

I scowled a bit. "It's coming along," I grumbled, and Percy – the twat – smirked at me. _His_ Department doesn't have to keep ruddy diaries. "Say, do you know anything about Hufflepuff?"

Percy shook his head. "No. I'm sorry, Ron." He touched my shoulder and said, "But for what it's worth, Hugo will be fine. Hufflepuff, you know."

Yeah, that's what everyone keeps saying. It doesn't mean it's making me feel _better_. Yeah, it's all fun and games when a House disappears but I'd still like to know that my son is okay. I said, "Thanks, Percy. Say 'hi' to Audrey and the girls for me."

"Of course. My regards to Hermione and Rose."

When I went in to Harry's office, he didn't even notice me coming in until I closed the door. He shoved something in his desk drawer quickly – I'm positive it was a journal (ha! He's keeping one as well, then!).

"Yo, Harry, my man!" I said. "Whaddup!"

Harry stared at me. I don't think he was very impressed, but Harry doesn't keep up with the groove like I do. "…Work?" he said.

"That's the shizz, yo."

"…I think you should stop listening to my kids, Ron." He took of his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "How's the journal going?"

I rolled my eyes because that's pretty much what every single one of our conversations has been like since this stupid therapy thing started. "Bloody hell, Harry –"

"Come on, Ron, just tell me you've been writing in it –"

"I have! Blimey!"

"Sorry," he sighed. Hermione's right – he _did_ look tired, way more than usual. "It's not for much longer. Just until the end of January, okay?"

"Yeah, okay," I said, and Harry handed me a bundle of parchment. "What's this?"

"I need you to take them down to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement for me, since you're here. Just some paperwork for the Gringotts stuff. Is that okay?"

"Oi, I'm not your messenger boy," I said, but he looked so damn tired that I took pity on him and raced the paperwork down to MLE. I mean, yeah, I only went by to say 'hi' but I wasn't doing anything else.

I ran into Malcolm Baddock and another Auror on the way down. Well, I say "ran into", I really mean I walked up behind them and eavesdropped because I was bored and I thought I heard them mention Malfoy.

Not that I'm obsessed. 'Cause I'm not.

Anyway, they didn't say anything interesting, and I don't think it was about Malfoy either.

"…needs to keep his bloody nose out of it otherwise I'll never get the money –"

"…does he know about the prototype that cat –?"

"Forget the cat, Jack!"

"Hello, Weasley," Baddock said loudly as soon as he noticed I was there. "Can we help you with anything?"

"Er. No," I said. "It's fine."

The other one – I forget the name – was frowning at me so I left. Touchy, or what? Anyway, I delivered Harry's paperwork and went back to my office. I passed Malfoy on my way back, but he was with a photographer for the _Prophet_.

Lord Malfoy, at it again. Hopefully he won't bring a journalist along to the Christmas dinner.

I managed to get some alone time with Hermione in the afternoon. Rose spent the day with Albus and Scorpius and is going to stay the night at Harry's and Ginny's. I managed to convince Hermione to put aside the law books for a bit – because, look, it's great that she wants to have a proper career (mind, the one she had before was plenty proper, I think she just likes working more than she can handle it) but it's kind of awkward sharing the bed with a dozen magical law books.

"I'm so worried about Hugo," she said.

"Yeah, me too," I said.

She sniffled a bit into my shoulder then said, "You know what I could really use right now?"

"What?"

"That banana De-stresser thing George sent."

I stared at her and she stared at me, and then we both started laughing.

(I'm a better De-stresser than that thing, anyway.)

And… that was my day. More or less.

* * *

><p><em>26.12.21<em>

So.

I sat down just now to write a second entry for December. A recount of the Christmas dinner – large family and friends gathering, all the siblings and nieces and nephews (basically everyone except Hugo: Livia spent most of the dinner looking tragic and earning lots of sympathy hugs from everyone. I mean, yeah, poor girl losing her BFF but I'm Hugo's father! Where were my hugs?) and a meal that Harry managed to convince Ginny to make. Malfoy and I ate ice cream afterwards. Good night. Had fun.

The problem is: I already have two entries for December. The second one was written on the 17th, and I don't have a memory of that day at all. I don't even remember writing it.


	5. from the journal of ronald weasley IV

_Disclaimer:__ This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J. K. Rowling. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended._

* * *

><p><strong>Ronald Weasley and the Midlife Crises<strong>

five

_from the actually-sort-of-necessary journal of Ronald Weasley, continued_

_26.12.21_

I really don't like it when things don't make sense.

Granted, that happens more often than I personally care for. But in this _particular_instance, things _really_ didn't make sense. Such as a journal entry that I had no memory of writing, let alone a journal entry of a day I didn't remember living!

At least I know I'm not going mad now. Really thought I was for a sec, though. This morning… Merlin, I don't know where to start. It's almost midnight now and today was really long and stressful. I'm gonna recount the whole day because as much as I don't like doing this, I'm kinda freaked out and… I need to start writing out my days now.

This morning after I wrote the previous entry, I stared at the journal and flicked through the pages like a lunatic. Because, I remembered the 16th and the 18th, right? But for the life of me, I couldn't remember anything about the 17th. I know I don't have the best memory, but I'm not _that_ bad.

"Hermione?" I said.

"Yes?"

"Come here for a sec, will you?"

She sighed loudly from the other side of the bedroom and bookmarked her law book, and came over to stand behind me. "What is it?"

She was just grumpy because I'd pulled her away from her midlife crisis, but I wasn't really in the mood to tease her at the time. I'll do it later. I pointed at the page of the journal – specifically, the conversation I'd supposedly recorded between me and his wife and the implications of activities after. 'Cause, you know, I'm sure I'd remember something like that. "Do you remember saying this?"

She leaned over my shoulder to peer at the words.

Definitely my handwriting, I thought. I expected Hermione would frown at that and ask what it was, but she smiled instead.

"Mmm, yes," she murmured, and pressed a kiss to my shoulder. "And I remember what we did afterwards, too…"

"I don't."

Hermione stood back and crossed her arms. "Oh, well, _pardon me_ –!"

Self-preservation instinct usually kicks in when Hermione's voice turns hard and offended. Like, normally I'd backtrack and as possible and begin a process of furiously begging for forgiveness then sleeping on the couch and eating baked beans on toast for a couple of nights. But this time I just said, "No, I mean, I _literally_ don't remember anything that happened that day. I don't even remember writing this." I turned around to face her. "I think my memory's been tampered with."

I'm glad to say that sleeping on the couch and baked beans are not on the agenda. Some perks to getting your memory wiped, I guess. I immediately went to the Ministry after this, straight to Harry's office.

"Mate, there's a problem." I held up this stupid diary. "Looks like this journal stuff was useful after all."

I gave him a short run-down – saw an entry I didn't remember writing about a day I didn't remember living. Harry locked his door and threw up a Silencing charm and a Muffliato. Bit paranoid, but I didn't complain. He made me sit down on his desk, and he shone a Lumos in my eyes. I winced.

"Sorry."

"S'okay."

Then he picked up the journal and flicked through it. I winced, 'cause, you know, I've written a couple of snide things, but Harry didn't say anything. "Well, it's yours. You definitely wrote it. Handwriting matches up, tone indicates normal thought patterns. You're perfectly capable of throwing off the Imperius, so it's highly unlikely you were under it. And you did come into my office that day and I did ask you take papers down to MLE for me – you seemed fine. It stands to reason that the rest of the entry happened as well."

"Hermione confirmed the last part," I muttered, and Harry _hmmed_.

"So you're absolutely certain that you don't remember _anything_ –"

"Nothing."

Harry put the journal down and faced me. "Can I perform Legilimency on you? Just to check to see if your memory has been tampered with."

"Yeah, fine," I said.

It didn't take very long. Harry murmured "_Legilimens_," and I felt him shift through a couple of memories. Bit uncomfortable, really. I didn't think he would be so, you know, good at it either. He sucked at school. No offence, of course, it's just the truth. He sighed and pulled away. "You've been Obliviated. A couple of days ago, I'd say."

I did _not_ feel good. "I didn't even realise," I said.

"It's a good one. Really subtle."

"That's not making me feel better, mate. They erased a _whole day_. And I didn't even _notice_."

At that, Harry raised an eyebrow. "_Noticing_ an Obliviate kind of defeats the purpose. But you recorded the day."

"Only because you were forcing those entries at me like my Mum used to ram vegetables down my throat when I was a kid –"

"Yeah, lucky, that," Harry muttered.

"But _why?_"

Harry pursed his lips. "That's what I intend to find out. Let's start with Percy."

"Why Percy?"

"To retrace your steps."

Dunno if I've mentioned this or not, but I'm pretty rubbish at making my way through the Department of Mysteries. I really hate going down there – it reminds me way too much of our fifth year and we broke in. That brain? I still get nightmares. But yeah, I'm no good at navigating the place. Harry, though? He walked around there like he had a map drawn on the back of his hand. How much time does he spend down there?

Anyway. Percy was, of course, surprised to see me and Harry down there – although more so at me, since I don't have many excuses to skulk around the Department of Mysteries. "I've seen you two days in a row," I drawled – 'cause I saw him at the Christmas dinner, see. Surprised he was even there, actually. "I'm getting spoiled!"

Percy laughed, but Harry didn't. "Nothing to write home about, Ron."

"I dunno, I reckon Mum'll be delighted to hear that someone's seen you more than once a month."

"Speaking of," Harry interrupted, "Percy, did you speak to Ron on the 17th? After leaving my office?"

"I did," Percy replied, frowning. "Why do you ask?"

Harry shrugged. "Just checking."

Percy looked about as convinced by Harry as I was – which is to say, not at all. "Everything all right?"

"For now," Harry said. "How are things down here?"

"Coming along well so far."

Whatever was going along well so far, me and the rest of the Ministry have no blooming clue, but Harry nodded like it made sense. "Good. Great! I'll leave you to it."

Percy nodded at us both, thanked me again for the Christmas, and went in the opposite direction. Harry shoved his hands in his pockets. "C'mon. Let's track down Baddock."

I was starting to feel like a dog on a leash, the way Harry kept dragging me around, and very nearly said so. But I decided that my memory was ever so slightly more important than my pride. Just for today. So. It took an annoyingly long time to find Malcolm Baddock.

You know, I've never really _liked_ Baddock. He's _okay_, I guess, but he's a bit shifty and Once A Slytherin, Always A Slytherin, as far as I'm concerned. He's a decent Auror and a pretty smart guy, and I don't actually have much to do with him outside of the occasional joint case. Me and Harry found Baddock on the Magical Law Enforcement level of the Ministry in his office alone.

"Auror Baddock, how are you doing today?" Harry said by way of announcing his presence, not so much as knocking. Rude, but I'm not one to talk. Baddock looked faintly annoyed but still stood up in respect and nodded.

"Good, thanks, Potter. Something up?"

I hovered next to Harry as Harry spoke: "Actually, yes – I was wondering if you could help me and Ron. We're trying to retrace his steps on the day of the 17th."

"Why?"

"He was supposed to take some paperwork down to MLE for me but it never got there and he can't remember what he did with it."

Now, see, I'm a pretty good Auror. A damn good one, if I do say so myself. I've got plenty of experience where I've been thrown into situation where I need a poker face. Comes with the job and all. But what Harry said was a lie, and it was a really smooth fib. It was a bit hard to not look surprised.

"Getting old, Weasley? Losing your memory?" Baddock replied, the arsehole, and I scowled at him.

"Listen, Malcolm," Harry said quickly, "it was kind of important – you haven't seen any lost paperwork around, have you?"

"No, sorry."

Harry made a small noise of irritation, but one that was aimed at _me_, not Baddock. "You sure?"

"Very sure."

"Did you see Ron at all that day?"

"No."

Harry didn't lose a beat and kept talking before I could accuse Baddock of being a lying liar who lied. "All right. Thanks, Malcolm. If you see that paperwork, let me know, okay?"

"Sure, Potter. Weasley."

We left, and as soon as we were out the door, Harry grabbed my arm and started striding. "Come on, we haven't asked Malfoy yet."

I gaped at Harry a bit, because _dang_. "When did you get so good at lying?"

"Oh, you know," Harry replied vaguely, "necessity of the job."

"I wouldn't have written something down that didn't happen."

"I know. I'm sure Malcolm was lying about seeing you."

"Why?"

Harry slowed down, glanced around, and cast a _Muffliato_ around us. "Listen," Harry said quietly, "I think you overheard something you weren't supposed to."

"And you think that I overheard Malcolm talking. You think Malcolm Obliviated me."

Makes sense.

"I do," Harry agreed, "but I don't have any proof."

"Except the journal, which says I heard them talking about cats. Dunno about you, mate, but that doesn't seem much of a reason to Obliviate someone."

"There must be something else. Come with me."

"Where are we going?"

"To talk to Malfoy."

"You can talk to the prat yourself, he's probably busy with a camera crew –"

"Ron, this is serious!" Harry paused and sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose, looking very tired. Hermione's right. He doesn't look well. Can't really remember the last time he smiled for real. I hope he's okay. "When it comes down to it, I trust our families and I trust Malfoy, and no-one else."

That was… news to me.

"Malfoy saw you that day. Any extra bit of information helps. And he's good at solving things."

So we went to Malfoy's office. I'm not going to wax poetic about the trip over – I know Malfoy likes to write novellas in his journal about every second of every day, and even though I should record everything that happens to me, don't expect detail about this sort of stuff. Harry and I walked to his office, and it was boring. We got there and went into his freakishly neat office unannounced, and Malfoy was at his desk. He _wasn't_ playing with his baseball bat this time, which is something. And no, that is not an innuendo or hip talk, I'm being literal. Seriously, last time I went into his office unannounced, I found him dancing and swinging around an actual Muggle baseball bat while singing "Twist and Shout".

It was all kinds of awkward.

So, no, he wasn't swinging the baseball bat around, but he was dropping something into the Relationship Advice Box

"Malfoy," Harry greeted, and Malfoy said hi back.

"'Sup, Malfoy," I said.

He grimaced, because he's not with the groove either. "Weasley, no." Then he faced Harry. "Potter, we need to talk about your psychotic owl. I think it's trying to –"

"Not now, Draco."

"Oh. Something wrong?"

"Yeah." Harry was holding onto my journal a little bit too tightly. "Did you see Ron at all on the 17th, coming back up from MLE?"

"…I…" Malfoy thought about it for a moment. "Yes? I think so. Why?"

I scowled and talked over Harry, because it was my damn memory that was erased and I could talk perfectly well. "My memory's been tampered with."

Malfoy started. "What? When? Are – are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Except that, you know, my memory's been messed with."

Harry took over again and gave Malfoy a quick rundown.

"…so basically, we're certain Baddock has something to do with it. I think Ron overheard something he shouldn't have and his memory of the day was erased sometime between the 17th and Christmas. And I'm positive it has to do with Baddock's conversation with this unidentified Auror." Harry passed my journal over. Seriously, he just _handed it over_ like it was a Chocolate Frog. I know it was just Malfoy, but come on! "That's the entry, there. And today Baddock denied even seeing Ron at all, so…"

I admit, I twitched and resisted the urge to rip the journal out of Malfoy's hands and hide it. I know Malfoy hasn't forgotten the time we read his journal after the Pantera incident – he's been biding his time. But he didn't laugh, so that was surprising. Also worrying, because it just means later he's gonna get his revenge.

"'Needs to keep his bloody nose out of it…'" Malfoy murmured. "Money, prototype, cat… Jack…" He frowned. "Prototype."

"Mean anything to you?" Harry asked, and Malfoy was silent for a few moments.

"Maybe. Baddock was the one who reached Jackson Mills' body first, then turned it over to Pantera when he decided it was a non-magical crime. I have reason to believe that – that an experimental potion Mills was working on was stolen, but –" He shrugged "I don't know what cats have to do with it. Must be one hell of a cat to earn a memory wipe, though, Weasley."

"Har, har."

Harry took this journal back and passed it to me. I… might have clutched it a bit tighter than necessary.

"The good thing is, we have an advantage." Harry pointed at the journal. "That diary."

"Journal," I corrected. I sound like Malfoy now. Definitely been spending too much time around the little shit. "And it's not much of an advantage if we don't know what the heck it's an advantage over."

"We know that Baddock is trying to hide something," Harry said. "And we know it might be about Malfoy, and possibly the Jackson Mills case. Everyone knows you two hang out together, so by wiping Ron's memory, he couldn't warn you if Baddock was planning on doing something to you."

We really need to be more subtle about the ice cream trips.

"So now what?" Malfoy said.

"Now," Harry said, "we keep this to ourselves. Just us three. We can't let anyone know that we're aware Ron's memories have been altered or the advantage that we have. We keep writing in the journals – record every minute of every day, and reread what you write as often as you can. Malfoy, Ron – I want you two to be each other's lookouts."

So Malfoy's coming over tomorrow night to compare diary entries with me, like it's some sort of tea party. This really won't help the rumours about us being gay.

After that, I went home. I told Hermione everything, of course. Nothing much else happened for the rest of the day. I played a game of Quidditch with the kids and I lost to Rose. It was completely intentional. Tripped over another one of Hermione's law books. Ginny's still refusing to cook, and Harry's been eating tuna out of a can.

I'm gonna keep my eye on Baddock now. Creep.


	6. from the journal of ronald weasley V

_Disclaimer:__ This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J. K. Rowling. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended._

* * *

><p><strong>Ronald Weasley and the Midlife Crises<strong>

six

_from the actually-sort-of-necessary journal of Ronald Weasley, continued_

_29.12.21_

Keeping in with my promise to record everything as often as possible, here's another recount of my day. It was pretty boring, to be honest – nothing notable happened, but it can't hurt to make sure I've got a proper record of everything.

Hung out in Harry's office for most of the morning. He was signing his way through a stack of paperwork. You know, his desk is almost as messy as mine, but you don't see Hermione nagging _him_ about it possibly becoming sentient. I messed around and I think I broke his Foe Glass, but with luck he won't find out for a few more days.

Malfoy was keeping an eye on Baddock today while he got Teddy to research into the Jackson Mills case a bit more. Not that I think Teddy's doing any proper work – he probably just uses Malfoy's office for fun times with Victoire. Kinda makes me feel sorry for Malfoy. He's replaced his desk way too many times.

"Blimey, I hope next year's better than this one," I muttered. "My son's missing, my wife wants to be a lawyer, my memory's been tampered with – what in Merlin's name could go wrong next?"

Harry groaned. "You _had_ to ask, didn't you…"

And yep, as soon as he said that, a Patronus charged through his wall and delivered a message to him. Harry sighed and stood up, and locked his desk drawers.

"Two unauthorised people were found in the Department of Mysteries. Want to come down and question them with me?"

I didn't have anything better to do. Other than the paperwork from the messy Gringotts thing, but bugger anyone who thinks I'm going to do paperwork when it's almost the New Year. Anyway. We went down together to the interrogation rooms. It was the small, dinky one, too dark for my liking and too small for comfort.

"I always feel a bit claustrophobic in that one. And I saw a spider in here a couple of weeks ago."

"There are no spiders, Ron," Harry said as he opened the door, stepped through, and… then he stepped back out and closed the door firmly behind him. Before it closed, I glanced in and saw the room was empty.

"What, weren't they in there?"

"No, they were. I let them go."

"…Well, didn't you want question them?"

"I did." He looked kinda sick. Pale.

"That was… fast," I said, mystified.

"I think you spaced out, Ron," Harry said. "It was a paperwork mix-up – they were qualified to be down there. Have you been getting any sleep?"

It's been a bit restless, but I've been getting at least three or four hours a night. I've run on less than that, and I've never spaced out from sleep deprivation before. But I guess there's a first time for everything. "Not enough," I admitted, and Harry sighed and hunched his shoulders. "You okay, mate? You look weird."

Harry smiled – it was a tight smile, the one he used to give people after the Pantera fiasco – and clapped me a bit too hard on the shoulder. "I'm fine, Ron. Just a bit stressed out."

"Know the feeling," I snorted.

"Are _you_ all right?"

"Aside from knowing my mind's been tampered with?" I laughed, but Harry winced. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Just… let me know if you're not feeling okay." Harry paused and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Why don't we – uh – go to the Three Broomsticks? Nothing else is on for today."

"You've got paperwork."

"I've always got paperwork. Come on, it's been a while. Drinks on me."

Harry's right, it _had_ been a really long while. So I said yes, but even now it makes me feel awkward when Harry pays for my drinks. He really insisted this time, so I let him. Perks of having your memory tampered with – you get treated like royalty. Maybe I should get myself in danger a bit more often.

Still no news about Hufflepuff. I miss Hugo.

So far my journal matches up with Malfoy's. He popped over just now to do a comparison thingy. It bugs me how eloquent he is. Like, every single one of his entries is a prize-winning novel. And then he buggered back off to Kent to spend the rest of the break in his Muggle house with his kids.

Malfoy, in a _Muggle house_. I still can't get over it.

My hand hurts. I haven't had to write this much since Hermione made me sit the NEWTs.

* * *

><p><em>30.12.21<em>

Spent the day at home today. Not much to say. Hermione was off doing a test for her law stuff today, so she can hang a certificate on the wall and go off and properly represent people in court instead of just being an equal-rights activist. Good on her.

Rose will be going back to school soon, but she insisted on having her friends all come over today. Bit pointless if you ask me – she's going to see them all in a few days anyway.

Al and Scorpius and the Scamander twins. I've been a bit concerned that she doesn't have any close female friends, but Hermione told me that she turned out just fine with me and Harry as her two mates for all seven years of school. So, yeah, I guess so. Anyway, I wasn't alone in the house. George and Percy keep teasing me and telling me to watch out, and that if I'm not careful I'll probably end up with _both_ my kids marrying Malfoys (ha, ha, ha).

Scorpius is a good-looking young man, better than Malfoy was at the age of 16 anyway, and I'd be worried about how much time Scorpius spends with Rose if I wasn't so sure he's got his eyes on Albus instead. I mean, the kid's not exactly subtle. I wonder how long it'll take for Malfoy to notice.

No, it's those Scamander kids I'm worried about. I'm keeping my eye on Lysander in particular.

* * *

><p><em>31.01.21<em>

Wow, Malfoy wasn't lying about Harry's owl being psychotic around his owl.

Spent the day at home again – New Year's Eve and all that. Had fun. We watched fireworks at nine o'clock, just an hour ago. Malfoy wasn't there – apparently he was in Kent again. I tried to visit him earlier at the Manor but his House Elf said he was at his_ other_ house. Bugger that, I wasn't travelling all the way over there. I get that he has a house up there but it's not like Scorpius and Livia actually _live_ there most of the time. It's for Muggle business stuff. He's spent a ridiculous amount of time there over the last year or so. I knew Hermione shouldn't have got him that book on Muggle aircraft, she's just encouraging his weird midlife crisis Muggle-appreciation thing. He was so much more predictable at school, I swear. 'Cause, seriously, what is so damn special about Muggle Kent?

Midnight fireworks will be happening soon, so I'd better join all the rest of the family. It's just a sea of red hair at the moment and I can barely tell one apart from the other. Beginning to think Malfoy has a point.

Wish Hugo was here to see the fireworks. Stupid Hufflepuff.

What I _don't_ approve of is how bloody cold it is tonight! It's the middle of winter – why do we need to be _outside_ to watch the fireworks?

Ginny refused to make any meals, so I guess she still thinks she's turning into Mum.

Nothing else to report.

_Later_

Fireworks were nice, but I'm tired and I want to go to bed instead of hanging around at the party downstairs.

…This is what it's like to be old, I guess. I don't like feeling old. Better brush up on the modern slang again. Good thing James and Lily are still here – I can listen in on their conversations before they go.


	7. article excerpts from the daily prophet

_Disclaimer:__ This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J. K. Rowling. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended._

* * *

><p><strong>Ronald Weasley and the Midlife Crises<strong>

seven

_article excerpts from the _Daily Prophet

_3.01.22_

Special Evening _Prophet_ Breaking News Report

**HARRY POTTER FIGHTING FOR HIS LIFE!**

Head Auror Harry Potter is in a coma and fighting for his life.

Potter's family have been keeping vigil at his bedside at St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

Initial reports reveal that Potter was attacked while re-examining the scene of the Gringotts break-in. According to witnesses and high sources in the Ministry, Potter went without a backup team to Diagon Alley. Reports are inconsistent, but witnesses claim they saw Potter follow an unidentified man into Gringotts Wizarding Bank.

"It was horrible, just horrible," said Seraphina Smith, a witness to the incident. "There was loud crash and everyone on the street looked up and we just saw him flying from the top window and falling to the ground – I thought he'd died, there was so much blood!"

The full extent of Potter's injuries is not yet known, nor is the truth of what occurred on the top floor of the Gringotts building.

Aurors Ronald Weasley and Draco Malfoy, also witnesses, were first on the scene.

A statement released by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement said: "Sadly the reports are true that Harry Potter is badly injured and in a coma. We are all hoping and praying that he will pull through."

Potter's wife, Ginevra Potter (nee Weasley), could not be reached for comment, nor could their children.

If anyone has information on the attack on Harry Potter, please contact the Department of Magical Law Enforcement immediately. (Full report page 2, column 1)

* * *

><p><em>4.01.22<em>

**RONALD WEASLEY NAMED ACTING HEAD AUROR**

Immediately following the attack and incapacitation of Harry Potter yesterday, Ronald Weasley, close friend and fellow Auror of Potter, was appointed as the Acting Head Auror.

The magical community is still in shock over the attack.

Ronald Weasley released an official statement today: "[The Aurors] don't know if the attack on Harry [Potter] is related to the Gringotts break-in, but as far as we can tell there is no relation. All investigations are resuming and we're going to do everything we can to find out who attacked him."

Harry Potter has shown no signs of recovery yet. (Full report page 2, column 2)

* * *

><p><em>6.01.22<em>

**WEASLEY STEPS DOWN; NEW ACTING HEAD AUROR APPOINTED**

All investigations into the attack on Harry Potter three days ago have been temporarily halted during a minor reshuffle of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Acting Head Auror Ronald Weasley was asked to stand down from the assumed position. Auror Malcolm Baddock was appointed Acting Head Auror instead.

Minister Gilbert released a statement around midday: "I simply don't find it appropriate that Auror Weasley be the one to be the Acting Head Auror. It's well known that he and Harry Potter are very close, so Weasley would be understandably affected by Potter's accident. I have asked Weasley to step down as Acting Head Auror and take a few weeks' leave to recover."

High sources in the Ministry say that Auror Weasley stepped down on mutual terms, but he could not be reached for comment.

Auror Baddock held a press conference shortly after the Minister's statement was released, where he stressed that the investigations into the attack on Harry Potter would resume as soon as the minor reshuffle settled. His first action as Acting Head Auror was to dismiss 5 per cent of all Auror staff.

Draco Malfoy, philanthropist and the only Non-magical crimes Auror, was among those dismissed early this morning. The dismissal has been met with negative response from the magical community.

Baddock explained the dismissal: "The truth of the matter is, the Non-magical crimes department was ultimately unnecessary and is an unfortunate liability to the Ministry. We regret the dismissal but thank Lord Malfoy for his work and dedication over the past couple of years."

Draco Malfoy could also not be reached for comment.


	8. from the journal of ronald weasley VI

_Disclaimer:__ This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J. K. Rowling. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended._

* * *

><p><strong>Ronald Weasley and the Midlife Crises<strong>

eight

_from the actually-sort-of-necessary journal of Ronald Weasley, continued_

_3.01.22_

…shit.

So.

I don't know where to start. It's late now, and we're all tired and in St Mungo's. Healers won't let us in to see Harry yet. Well, I say 'us', I mean me and Hermione and Malfoy. Ginny's in with him. Nothing we can really do except wait around for more news to come out. Ginny was holding up okay, or pretending to. She sent the kids to Mum and Dad so the press doesn't get hold of them.

What the hell was he _doing_ in Gringotts, anyway? Who was he chasing?

Malfoy's here, too, but he's busy writing in his own diary. Journal. Whatever. Probably writing an epic trilogy about what happened. (With a Muggle pen, no less.) Guess I'd better write it down as well, but _he_ can put in all the flowery descriptions and shit.

Right. So. I was at the Ministry pretending to do work, and I must've been really bored because I sent a letter to Malfoy and asked if he wanted to meet up in Diagon Alley for ice cream. I'm a regular at Fortescue's now, by the way. They give me free ice cream. Me and Malfoy and Hugo and Livia, when we have them with us. Especially during winter, 'cause I swear Malfoy and I are the only ones who go there during the season.

"It's fucking freezing," I said to Malfoy when he arrived, 'fashionably' late as usual.

"Man up, Weasley," he replied.

This would've been around 4:00 pm. It was already getting dark, so I shoved my hands into my pockets and said, "C'mon, in, my arse is going numb."

He was probably going to reply with something snarky, but before he could there was this massive crash of breaking glass from just across the street – Gringotts. We both turned to look and I saw a person falling and hitting the ground, glass shattering down around him. Everyone in the street was screaming and panicking and I remember just _running_ like mad. Malfoy was with me, pushing through the crowds to get to the person who'd just fallen three storeys. Malfoy got to his side first, kneeling right in all the glass. His knees are shredded something awful now. The guy's already as pale as the fresh fallen snow, but when he saw who it was, he looked even worse.

"_Harry?"_

"_What?_" I cried, and yep – it was Harry.

Don't think I'll ever forget the blood. I've seen him in bad shapes before – really bad shapes, after Quidditch matches and duels with Death Eaters. But this was different somehow, because I haven't seen him like this since the early days of being an Auror. Harry just doesn't go down like that, not anymore. He was lying there, all twisted and broken limbs – one of his arms was in a position it really _shouldn't_ have been in – and there was blood and glass everywhere.

Malfoy and I glanced up at the broken top window and he said, "I'll stay here – _go!_"

I ran. All the way through Gringotts, wand drawn and looking like I was ready to murder someone. Actually, I _was_ ready to murder someone. I got to the room on the top floor where Harry fell from, and there was… no-one there. Just a mess, like a duel had been going on.

So Harry's in a coma now and it's pretty bad. A lot of ribs cracked, limbs broken, really bad internal bleeding, and he was hit by an unidentified spell too – that was probably what blew him out of the building. Healers don't know if or when he'll wake up.

So that's… hard. I'm not sure what to do, actually.

Gringotts top floor is a crime scene now, and I'm here instead of helping with the investigation. I'm keeping up to date, though. Auror Rowena Carter, a newbie at the Ministry (nice girl), took some initial witness reports – apparently Harry was chasing someone through Gringotts. Unidentified man. No name, no specific description. Just tall and brown-haired.

Great.

_Later_

Most of the family's been by tonight, to see if there's been any progress. Bill and Fleur came by and dropped off flowers, which was nice but kind of impractical. George dropped off some food that Mum made and told us Al and Lily and James are doing okay, but they're really scared for Harry.

Percy came by, too. By then Hermione had fallen asleep and Malfoy had left to be with his kids. Ginny was still in with Harry (no word from the Healers yet), so Percy sat next to me and said, "You doing all right, Ron?"

I told him the truth. "Not really, no. But thanks for asking, that's really swell of you."

I sounded bitter, but Percy just sighed. "He'll be fine."

"How do you know that?" I demanded. "Maybe he won't be!"

"Easy, Ron –"

"Because _that'll_ just be the icing on the cake, won't it! I mean, _fucking hell_, what else can go wrong right now? Harry almost died!" And then I started crying. In a very manly way. Manly men's tears.

And then Percy hugged me.

Don't think he's hugged me since I was, like, four years old or something. It was nice, y'know? I sobbed into his shoulder a bit and made a mess, and he patted my back. "Listen to me," he said. "Harry will be fine."

"Says _who?_"

"Says me."

I snorted and shook my head. "I just want things to be _okay_ again."

"It will be. In the end."

"Hah. And when exactly is the 'end'?"

"2046, I think."

It's always a sort of pleasant shock to hear Percy make a joke. I laughed (very snottily, which was fifty shades of attractive – good thing Malfoy wasn't there to see) and wiped my nose on the back of my sleeve, just because I could. Percy just patted my back some more and stood up, and looked at me kinda sadly.

"You'll be okay, Ron."

"Yeah, I will," I sighed, and saluted him. "Thanks, Perce."

And then he left and I wrote this, and everything seems to be consistent. No weird gaps or anything. Yay memory.

* * *

><p><em>4.01.22<em>

So by fortunate association, I've been named Acting Head Auror by the department. Because, you know, Harry Potter's best friend, experienced Auror, etc.

Still, it was… unexpected.

This shit is happening too fast to keep up with. I don't have _time_ to write everything down. I might just keep Pensieve entries and get Malfoy or Hermione or Ginny to look over them for inconsistencies.

So today. Yeah. I was told while waiting in the hospital, and of course I hadn't slept at all or even changed clothes or _anything_, but I was told to make an official statement anyway. This was all this morning – it's night now and I'm looking at the rush print of the _Prophet_. Awful picture of me. And I totally bungled my statement, but they made me sound smarter in the paper. Which was nice of them, but I noticed that they didn't call me Lord Weasley.

I went through Harry's office today, to find… actually, I don't know what I went there to find. His office is such a mess it's a wonder he knows what's going on day to day. I was hoping to find some proper indication of who he was following – it can't have been Baddock because none of the witnesses said the guy matched Baddock's description. Harry's got a fair few cases going on at the moment, but nothing of major importance. I figured that was because he was keeping the real stuff away from everyone else, so I went off in search of his journal but I couldn't find it.

What if it's been nicked?

* * *

><p><em>6.01.22<em>

Fucking Baddock.

_Later_

No, seriously, _fucking Baddock._ Five percent of Aurors? I know it's not much but –_holy shit_. And not just the newbies or the idiots – the _good_ ones. I saw Rowena Carter crying just now. She walked past my office carrying her belongings in a box.

And as for me, well, my Acting Head Auror position must be, like, the shortest time anyone has _ever_ held it. I wasn't officially fired – I've just been told to go on leave by Gilbert and that they didn't find it 'appropriate' for me to have the position and that I've been 'affected' by what's happened to Harry. It's as if I'm _not_ an Auror with over twenty years of experience. And then she made _Baddock_ the Acting Head Auror.

Not suspicious at all.

Right. I'm angry – bloody furious, actually – but something really sour is going on here and Baddock just got rid of the people best equipped to deal with the situation. Like me. And Malfoy. "Ultimately unnecessary and is an unfortunate liability" my arse. Malfoy is _useful._ Not that I'd admit it properly to his face, but he _is_.

I found him packing up his office around midday, a while after I heard the news. He really looked miserable, you know? Fair enough, I guess. I felt pretty miserable too.

"So, now what?" I said when I went into his office. Malfoy shrugged and held up a box of his stuff

"I'll be taking this all to my private practice."

"You have a private practice? Since when?"

"Today. I bought a place in Diagon Alley."

Of course he did. I rolled my eyes and picked up a box. "Let me help you set up. And then tomorrow we can talk about… stuff. And then get drunk in Hogsmeade."

"As usual, it is another one of your intricately detailed and life-changing plans. I'm very impressed."

So I helped him set up (kinda – it mostly ended up dumping various boxes around the room and hanging up a couple of pictures of his kids – I tossed the baseball bat behind his desk) and we talked a bit then made plans to meet up at Hogsmeade tomorrow. Now neither of us can keep an eye on Baddock.

_Later again_

"What are you going to do, Ron?"

Bless Hermione. I spoke to her all evening – she's gone to bed now but I have to record this. Can't believe these journals turned out to be good, after all. Good record of everything.

I shrugged and said, "I dunno."

She didn't look scared – just worried and tired. We've all been tired. This mess is just… too much of a mess. And with Harry in a coma and everything else that's been happening, I don't know how any of us can keep up. Hermione took my hand and said, "I think you should keep your eyes open and stay at the ready. And – now that I'm a qualified lawyer, I can walk around the Ministry without anyone wondering what I'm doing there."

Merlin, I love that woman. Also she's dangerous as hell with her wand, so if shit hits the fan (even more), I'm covered.

* * *

><p><em>7.01.22<em>

I'm a bit drunk, but the autocorrect spelling thingy on my quill should be working. Yep, look at that, no mistakes. I love my wife.

Got drunk in Hogsmeade with Malfoy earlier. After we talked about important stuff, like Harry and Baddock and my memory loss. Definitely all related. Malfoy feels bad.

"It's my fault," he said. "That conversation you overheard – it must have been about me digging into the Jackson Mills case. Baddock thought you would tell me, so he wiped your memory – and Potter kept a tail on him, and someone attacked him when he got to close." He took a drink. "Pantera was right. I am a meddling little fuck."

"You never could keep your nose out of other peoples' business," I muttered. "What does Baddock have to do with the Mills case?"

"Remember I told you that Baddock was the first to find Mills' body?"

Vaguely.

"Well, I think… I think Baddock might have stolen something off him. That experimental potion. And… I don't know. But it was really valuable, that potion. You could get very wealthy if you sold it to the highest bidder."

"Huh." Makes sense. I guess Harry _did_ know what he was doing when he made Malfoy the Non-magical crimes Auror. Mind, it didn't really take a genius to work it out, so everything in perspective.

"Trouble is," Malfoy continued, "we can't keep an eye on Baddock anymore."

But we didn't talk about it, though, because we'd both finished our first drinks by that stage and it's hard to talk serious business when you're drowning sorrows. Talk mostly turned into snarky jabs about school, which turned to laments about his short-lived time as an Auror.

"Fucking Baddock."

"Fucking Baddock," Malfoy agreed solemnly, and clinked his glass against mine. "He never _used_ to be such a twat. I liked him at school…"

"Yeah, well, you used to be a twat and I didn't like you at school."

"You _still_ think I'm a twat and you _still_ don't like me."

"Tha's nottrue!" I said, but I definitely slurred that. "You're just a _bit_ of a twat. An' I like you when you're not posing for the _Prophet_, Lord Draco Malfoy –"

"_That_ is for Livia's benefit," he declared with conviction, then drained his glass and stood up. "All right. I should get my kids and cart them back up to Kent."

"Why Kent?" I demanded.

"Kent because of… reasons…" Malfoy said slowly, and we did this awkward hug/manly fist-pump/salute thing that ended up with us being a bit too close to each other than was absolutely necessary. We helped each other out of the Three Broomsticks – staggered out, actually – and outside he tripped over and fell down into the snow.

I fell down with him and I hope I bruised the idiot.

After I helped him back up, he buggered off to Muggle Kent. I think he mentioned he left his kids with his mother, so he's lucky because he gets to sensibly sleep off his hangover, whereas I will have to hide it from my family.

So it's late now and I'm hiding on the couch downstairs so Hermione doesn't smell the alcohol on me.

Gonna have a bad headache tomorrow.


	9. correspondence II

_Disclaimer:__ This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J. K. Rowling. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended._

* * *

><p><strong>Ronald Weasley and the Midlife Crises<strong>

nine

_correspondence_

_8.01.22_

Weasley –

I can't remember much of what happened last night, and I think it should stay that way. I hope your hangover is awful.

Now that I'm no longer an Auror I don't have the authority to continue investigating the Jackson Mills case. But you do have authority even though you're on forced leave. It'll keep you busy, if nothing else.

The rundown of the case is this: Jackson Mills was mugged and killed on his way home from the 2018 Annual Westminster Potions Conference. We thought he was part of Pantera's serial killings, but he wasn't. I dug deeper and I found out that Mills was in the same post-Hogwarts Potions course as Katerina Kingson. At the 2018 Conference, Mills showcased a prototype of a Polyjuice potion he was working on – apparently one that changes a person's appearance for up to 48 hours. Pantera closed the case and classified it as a theft/mugging because the only thing found on Mills' body was an empty wallet.

What I think happened – I'm pretty sure we discussed this last night but I can't remember for certain – is that Baddock took the Polyjuice prototype off Mills' body, and the conversation you overheard was about me digging into the case and him wanting to sell the potion. Baddock thinks he got you, me, and Harry out of the way, but he doesn't know that we're still onto him.

How's Potter doing? Are the rest of you holding up all right?

Regards,

D. Malfoy

* * *

><p><em>9.01.22<em>

Malfoy –

My hangover is awful, and I hope I bruised you black and blue.

Thanks for the rundown. It makes sense, I guess – but who is Baddock going to sell the potion to? Hermione's got clearance to waltz around the Ministry without suspicion now, so she'll be keeping an eye on Baddock as best she can while we're out of commission.

Harry's still critical, but stable for now. Rest of the family is doing okay. It'll be easier when the kids go back to Hogwarts.

How's the private practice going? Scoring any good cases?

R. Weasley

* * *

><p><em>10.01.22<em>

**RETURNED TO SENDER**

FORWARD TO:  
>HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY<p>

Hugo Weasley  
>Weasley House, St. Andrew's Road<br>Avon, Portbury  
>Somerset BS24 9AY, UK<p>

Dear Hugo,

Things aren't very good at the moment. Well, I mean, classes are going well, but… everyone is worried about Harry. Albus and James and Lily are upset, but Scorpius is doing everything he can to keep Al's spirits up.

My Dad was fired by the new Head Auror. It was your Dad for a little while, but then the Minister for Magic told him to step down. Are you keeping up with the news, wherever you are? Dad won't tell me the details of his case but I know he's worried about it. I don't think I can put too much in this letter, though – I never know where the letters go and how it keeps coming back to me.

Everyone misses you, Hugo. Please come back soon.

Love,

Livia

* * *

><p><em>11.01.22<em>

Weasley –

The practice is doing all right so far. A lot of my old clients from cases I had as an Auror are employing my services (even though my office is far from constructed yet). I seem to be saddled with infidelity cases now, though. Pantera wasn't lying when he said he ruined marriages for a living. It's exceptionally unnerving, following husbands to hotel rooms.

Keep me posted. If Potter's condition changes, let me know. I'll be in Kent for a while.

D. Malfoy

* * *

><p><em>12.01.22<em>

Hi Mum,

I am in serious need of your cooking right now. And some company. Ron and Hermione are busy and George and Percy have been amazing, but… please come to St Mungo's, if you're free? I don't know if Harry can hear anything, but if he can I think he'd like to hear your voice right now.

Love,

Ginny

PS: I'm sorry I sent back your cookbooks.

PPS: I made macaroons but they didn't turn out nicely like yours do.

* * *

><p><em>13.01.22<em>

Miss Livia Malfoy  
>Ravenswood College, Old Church Road<br>Pembury, Tunbridge Wells  
>Kent TN2 4AX, England<p>

Dear Livia Malfoy,

I hope you don't mind that I've taken the liberty of replying to your most recent letter to Hugo. I also hope I don't come across as terribly creepy.

My name is Samael Glyde, and I'm a friend of Hugo's. He's been gone all year, but according to the school stories he and the rest of Hufflepuff will be back at the end of the year. He's told me all about you, though. All last year – all he did was talk about you. I feel as though I know you quite well, even though we've never met.

Regards,

Samael

* * *

><p><em>15.01.22<em>

Weasley,

Livia just received a letter from a kid called Samael Glyde. He claims he's a friend of Hugo's. Is this true? Because if it is, then I'm telling you right now that your child is making friends with some seriously questionable people. You do know his grandparents were Death Eater supporters?

D. Malfoy

* * *

><p><em>16.01.22<em>

Dear Draco,

I'm looking over the details of your dismissal from the Aurors, and I don't think it was fair at all! Fair as in legally fair, not fair in the moral sense. (Although I do happen to also think it was unfair in the moral sense.) I'm going through some of the regulation books now. I'll let you know if anything turns up. I've been keeping an eye on Baddock as best I can, but there's nothing to report. I think he's dropped his guard now that you and Ron are out of the picture.

Harry's condition is still the same. He's not critical anymore, which is a relief, but we don't know when he'll wake up or what the damage might be, if there is any.

Take care, and send my regards to Livia and Scorpius.

Sincerely,

Hermione

* * *

><p><em>16.01.22<em>

Malfoy –

Yeah, Sam's a kind-of-friend of Hugo's, 'cause they mostly only work on bits of homework together. Not this year, obviously, because Hufflepuff's gone to Merlin knows where. Glyde's in Slytherin, but we've had him over at least once – Hermione felt sorry for him. As for Hugo making friends with some seriously questionable people… Malfoy, look, I _could_ say something? But I'm a nice person (and Hermione's looking over my shoulder and scowling), so I won't.

Glyde's parents died in the FD neutralisation about thirteen years ago, just after he was born. He's been in foster homes ever since. Take it easy on the kid, he's probably just lonely now that Hugo's pulled a vanishing act. Just add it to that list of things wrong with your life and wax poetic about it to get the melodrama out of your system.

R. Weasley

* * *

><p><em>17.01.22<em>

Weasley,

Firstly: I'd rather meet this Sam kid first before I let Livia correspond with him.

Secondly: I'm _so close_ to writing out a list of things that are wrong with _you_. And I almost did, until I realised it might be easier to write a list of things that _aren't_ wrong with you, because that'd be a very, very short list and a better use of my time.

Thirdly: I'm going to steal your diary one day, Weasley. Someday soon. And you'll be sorry.

(Hello, Granger, thank you for your letter; I'll write you a proper response soon.) I'll be quiet for a few days – I have an unfaithful husband to follow around.

D. Malfoy

* * *

><p><em>19.01.22<em>

_Voicemail left on Draco Malfoy's phone  
>7:43 p.m.<em>

Malfoy, it's Ron. I just got a Patronus from Hermione – she overheard Baddock talking about breaking into your office! Tonight! Do you have important things in there?

* * *

><p><em>19.01.22<em>

_Voicemail left on Draco Malfoy's phone  
>7:57 p.m.<em>

MALFOY YOU STUPID GIT

(_Ron, you don't have to shout –!_)

ARE YOU IN MUGGLE KENT AGAIN? WHAT THE HELL IS SO SPECIAL ABOUT MUGGLE KENT? _I CAN'T SEND YOU PATRONOUS OR A HOWLER TO MUGGLE KENT, YOU LITTLE SHIT. ANSWER YOUR DAMN PHONE. THAT'S WHAT IT'S FOR, ISN'T IT? YOUR MUGGLE STUFF?_

* * *

><p><em>19.01.22<em>

_Voicemail left on Draco Malfoy's phone  
>8:21 p.m.<em>

Right, that's it, I'm breaking into your house. Don't think I don't know about your obsessive planner diary thing! I know where you keep it! I'll find you and tell you_myself._

(_That's an invasion of privacy, Ron –_)

(_Well this is kind of important, Hermione!_) If you're in Muggle Kent I'm going to be_ so annoyed, Malfoy._


	10. from the journal of ronald weasley VII

_Disclaimer:__ This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J. K. Rowling. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended._

* * *

><p><strong>Ronald Weasley and the Midlife Crises<strong>

ten

_from the actually-sort-of-necessary journal of Ronald Weasley, concluded  
>[with an entry by Draco Malfoy]<em>

_20.01.22_

I am _awesome_.

Oh, and Harry woke up today. Well, sort of. He opened his eyes and gurgled a bit and asked for water then went back to sleep, but he'll be fine. Also I'm getting _way_ ahead of myself and I'm really high on painkillers, so I'm probably not going to make much sense. Got nothing else to do except write at the moment – stuck in a hospital bed in St Mungo's. Might as well recount. That's what Malfoy does, yeah? He's been writing non-stop for the past few hours. Probably about how awesome I am. Fuck Yeah, Lord Ronald Weasley.

So, yesterday? I didn't have anything to do but sulk that day, being out of the job and all – Hermione informed me that it was 'unbecoming' of me, but frankly I thought was well within my right to sulk – so I waited around while she did all the work tagging Baddock at the Ministry.

Have I said before how much I love my wife? If I'm awesome, she's brilliant – it's always been that way. Dunno how I'd ever have survived without her my whole life. Hermione sent a Patronus message to me – around about 7:30 or something – to say that she overheard Baddock planning to break into Malfoy's office. The new private practice one, where he probably keeps all his information. And if Baddock found Malfoy's files and/or journal, then he'd know we were still onto him, and that would be bad.

So I called Malfoy's mobile phone (he has one now, for Livia) but I couldn't get into contact with him, the little shit had it turned off. I went to the Manor. It's not considered "breaking and entering" if you know how to disable the wards, right? Grabbed his planner and found out where he was for the evening.

I'd like to write more but the painkillers are kicking in and I just hallucinated an elephant in the room. Also my arm is in a sling and I'm smudging the ink everywhere.

_Later_

Actually, idea! I'm too tired to write down the rest. So – Malfoy's here now with me and I'm turning the rest of the story over to him. I'm sure he'll be a lot more eloquent than me, anyway. And his handwriting is actually legible, that's kind of important.

* * *

><p><em>Entry by Draco Malfoy<em>

_January 20, 2022_

Well, I'm not entirely certain what the above entry says because the handwriting is reprehensibly appalling. I'm assuming, however, that it is some sort of permission to write in this journal on Weasley's behalf – considering he just shoved it at me and promptly fell asleep. He's extremely proud – telling as many people who will listen. I feel sorry for the Healers.

But credit where credit is due: Weasley was brilliant. If it weren't for him… well, I guess we'd still have a Minister for Magic, but really, he was just doing his job.

I'm not completely sure why Weasley wants _me_ to recount. I doubt he knew what he was asking me to do, considering he was quite high on pain medication, and I'm certain he'll regret this when he wakes up. I think he just wants the satisfaction of making me write this down in his journal.

The joke's on him, because I did warn him I'd take revenge and read his journal one day. Muhahahaha.

_Later_

Well, that was… _highly_ entertaining. Very enlightening stuff.

Without further ado:

I was in Muggle Kent. On a date. Coming back from a restaurant with Marian.

Shut up, Weasley, I can hear you cackling.

We've… more or less been dating for the past two years, now, and I may or may not have neglected to tell those outside of my immediate family. It wasn't so much a conscious decision on my part as it was just things getting away from me. The longer I held out on telling Marian about magic and Weasley and company about Marian, the harder it was to _start_ to tell someone.

Anyway. The evening was all in all quite lovely. Marian and I were just walking together – barely a hundred metres away from the restaurant. Scorpius and Livia were both at their respective schools at this point – Scorpius safe at Hogwarts, Livia at Ravenswood. Good thing it was a very quiet evening and no-one around us, because Weasley, the genius that he is, Apparated right in front of us.

_Right_ in front of us.

In Muggle Kent.

As one does.

"_Malfoy!_"

Marian shrieked and stumbled backwards, and I only _just_ caught her. "_Fuck_, Weasley!" I shouted, but Weasley just pointed at me, looking crazed.

"_Why aren't you answering your phone?_"

"What the hell are you _doing_ here?"

"_Where did he come from_," Marian hissed, grabbing my collar. I had to pry her hand away because she also grabbed my tie and I felt myself choking a bit.

"Phone is – turned off –"

"Draco, what the _hell_ is going on?"

"Why is your phone turned off?!"

"_Where did he come from, Draco?_"

It's hard to concentrate when you have two people yelling different conversations at you.

"I've been trying to reach you for ages, and we have to go to your office now!"

"Who is he? Do you _know_ him?"

"How did you find me?"

"_Where did he come from?_"

It wasn't the most ideal circumstance to explain to my Muggle girlfriend that my best friend was a wizard and had Apparated, nothing to worry about. I told her I'd "explain later" – "You'll explain _now_, Draco Malfoy!" – and focused on Weasley, because he wouldn't have Apparated there without due cause. I hoped.

"Hermione overheard Baddock talking about breaking into your office!"

I paled, because even though I keep my office very tightly warded, Baddock was an Auror and he knew how to get around even the tightest of wards. And there was a lot of important information incriminating him in theft and the attack on Potter in that office.

"You have to come with me _now_."

"How did you know where I was?" I demanded, because clearly that was the more important topic.

Weasley waved his hand. "I broke into the Manor and found your planner."

"You _what?_"

"Your Manor? Draco, you live in Wiltshire! This is _Kent_! How did he –"

"Calm down, Malfoy –"

"Marian, I promise I'll tell you –"

"Malfoy, we have to go _now_!"

He Disapparated, presumably to my office, but this time Marian didn't shriek. She just stared at the spot he'd been at and blinked, then faced me. "What in _God's_ name –"

"Marian, I need you to hold onto my arm. Close your eyes, and whatever you do, don't let go."

"_Why_?"

"Please, Marian!"

She gave me a look sour enough to curdle milk, but did as I asked, and I Disapparated. I've never Apparated before with a Muggle, and I was terrified for a moment that it wouldn't work – but it did. We appeared in my office, which was still under construction, and Marian staggered away from me, gasping for air and looking around wildly. "We – we moved. How did we –"

"What, did she hit her head or something?" Weasley demanded, but I was holding her and trying to calm her down.

"Magic," I said. "It was magic. Apparition. Just – just please don't freak out. It's okay, honestly –"

"What do you mean _magic?_"

Weasley froze and stared at Marian. "…is she a Muggle?"

I ignored Weasley and kept on trying to keep Marian from panicking. _Trying _being the keyword there.

"_There's no such thing as magic, Draco –!"_

"_Why are you with a Muggle, Malfoy?"_

She rounded him. "What did you call me?"

"Marian, calm down, it just means a non-magical person –"

I didn't really get the chance to calm her down, because I felt the wards around my office get yanked away by some pretty strong magic. Weasley and I glanced at each other – he said, "Baddock," and I pushed Marian behind the desk and told her to stay down. She still seemed a bit stunned at that point and didn't make a noise, but before I could pull my wand out and join Weasley, Baddock – look, he was fast. Really fast. Weasley fired off a Stunner but Baddock blocked it and flung us to the other side of the room. In my defence, I hit my head pretty badly against the wall, so I was a bit dazed. Baddock Accio'd our wands away, and stepped up to us and sighed.

"You had to keep on meddling, didn't you."

"It's what I do," I said with a shrug. "Baddock, what happened to you? You used to be –"

"Oh, shut up, Malfoy."

It's a really good thing Weasley and I are good at poker faces. Neither of us made a sound as Marian stood up from behind my desk, holding my baseball bat tightly in her hands, and crept up behind Baddock.

"I really didn't want more blood on my hands, gentlemen, but –"

_Crack_, right across the back of his head. He dropped his wand and staggered off to the side, clutching his head, and swivelled around to face her. "Who the _hell_ are you?"

"A 'Moggle'," Marian said, baseball bat still raised, "and I've just experienced the most confusing five minutes of my life, so I'd watch your mouth if I were you."

Baddock laughed. "Oh, great, a Muggle. And what _exactly_ do you think you can –"

"Don't –" _smack_ "– bloody –" _smack_ "– tempt –" _smack_ "– me!"_  
><em>

Baddock slumped over, and Marian brought the bat down on his leg. There was a satisfying crunching sound. We stared at her, and she swung the bat over her shoulder, blew her hair out of her face, and panted, "Magic, Draco? _Magic_?"

I retrieved my wand. Weasley kicked Baddock in the crotch – ever classy – for good measure.

"You get him back to your place," I said, "we'll follow."

Weasley just stared at me, then did as I told him. I held out my arm to Marian. She shook her head and backed away, still holding the bat. "No," she said, "I am _not_ doing that – that – disappearing moving-thing again!"

I gripped my hair in frustration. "How about the fireplace?"

"_The fireplace?_"

It… took a fair amount of convincing. Finally I managed to convince her to come through the Floo with me, but she insisted on taking the bat with her. Fair enough, I guess. We came through into Granger's lounge room, but because Marian had never travelled by Floo before, we didn't exit gracefully and ash went all over Granger's carpet.

"Draco, there you are! And –" Hermione blinked at Marian. "Who is…?"

Marian staggered away from me. "I just went through a fireplace."

"You might want to sit down," I suggested weakly.

"Why, so the couch can transport me to another part of the country?" she snapped, then pressed her hand to her mouth. "I think I'm going to be sick."

That was… probably my fault. It's not a great idea to force someone to Apparate and then Floo all within ten minutes of the other. Let alone a Muggle. Poor Marian. She's forgiven me.

I think.

I directed her to the bathroom, and I did offer to with her but she said no in not so many words. So I waited with Granger, Weasley, and Ginny – who'd joined the party – while Marian ran to the bathroom.

"Is she a Muggle?" Hermione asked quietly, but Weasley, in all his obnoxious glory, burst in and shouted, "_You're with a Muggle!_"

"Yes, Weasley, I am with a Muggle!" I shouted back at him, then turned to Granger and said more calmly, "Yes, she's a Muggle, and your dolt of a husband here just exposed her to magic."

She looked sympathetic. "I'd better fix her some tea, then."

"I think she's going to need something stronger than tea, Hermione," said Ginny. "I'll get the vodka."

Baddock groaned pathetically on the floor.

By the time Marian came back, Weasley had grabbed some Veritaserum and Granger and Ginny brought their respective drinks. Marian didn't bother with either of them, and rounded on me. "_Magic!_ You're a – a wizard? Is this a joke?"

"It's real, Miss," Granger supplied, and Marian pressed her fingers to her temples.

"It's real, she says. I'd ask what you slipped into my drink, Draco, but –" She shook her head. "Magic. _Magic_. I don't – this is absurd. I always knew there was something different about you, but – you didn't think about maybe _telling_ me about this insignificant detail? What, did it slip your mind for a _whole two years_ or something?"

"I was going to tell you!"

"When, in another two years? I knew you were hiding something, Draco, but I didn't think you were being _serious _when you said you came from the nineteenth century!" Marian breathed deeply. "I need some water," she muttered, and picked up the glass sitting closest to her.

"That's vodka," Ginny quickly warned, but Marian had already downed the glass.

"Nngh," she gagged, grimacing, and put the glass down. "Yes, I know that now. I'm just going to… sit down. Assuming the couch doesn't transport me to Russia or something."

She took the tea and thanked Granger for it – "I'm Marian, by the way. I suppose you're one of Draco's friends that he's kept hidden for the last two years." – and went to the couch and sat down, and ignored me for the next half an hour.

I have a lot of explaining to do.

Ginny kicked Baddock awake, and Weasley grabbed his jaw. "I'd prefer to do this at the Ministry, but – you know, we've been fired and all. This won't be legal."

"Actually," Granger said with a grin, "I've been looking over the details. It was an unlawful dismissal! Both you and Draco. You're still the legal Acting Head Auror and Draco is still the Non-magical crimes Auror."

Bless Granger.

"Which means I _can_ do this legally, then!" Weasley crowed, and forced Baddock's mouth open to tip three drops of Veritaserum down his throat.

"What is your name?"

"Jackson Mills," Baddock said, and I shared a glance with Weasley.

"State your name, please," Granger tried instead.

"Jackson Mills," Baddock insisted.

"Uh. Well, Mr Mills, I'm sorry to be one to break this to you, but you died in May of 2018," I said.

"Malcolm Baddock is in the grave marked as Jackson Mills." Baddock – Mills – sneered. "Turns out you can't showcase a prototype Polyjuice potion that lasts for two days without the Ministry breathing down the back of your neck."

"Tell us what happened," Weasley snapped.

"Baddock stopped me after the conference. Said I needed to come with him and that I needed to turn my potion over to the Ministry." Mills grimaced with Baddock's features. "I resisted, he tried to stun me – so I punched him in the head, and he went down. I didn't realise he was dead until I saw the blood coming out of his ear."

"So you…" I prompted, and he kept talking. Bad Guys, you know? They can't help but explain it all. It makes my job a lot easier.

"I swapped our clothes and Polyjuiced him. It still works when you're dead, you know. Body has to be warm, though. I took a large sample of his hair – it'll keep me going for the next year at least."

Weasley narrowed his eyes. "How did you know to turn it over to Pantera?"

"I looked through Baddock's notes. Pantera was useless – I knew I could get away with it. I've spent _years_ in this body. But then you, Malfoy – sticking your nose into places it doesn't belong –"

I'd heard the spiel before. I told him to get on with it.

"I knew you'd find the connection to Kat."

"Cat?" Weasley repeated.

Mills sneered. "Katerina Kingson. Dumb bitch, getting herself mixed up with FD. It was a good thing I 'died' that night – a connection with her would have brought the Aurors breathing down my neck even more."

"Not cat," Weasley groaned. "_Katerina_ Kingson."

"So you – you thought Weasley overheard you talking about my investigations into the case," I said, "and you thought he would tell me. You wiped his memory and thought that was that. Yes or no."

"Yes," Mills gritted out.

"But then you realised Potter was trailing you. Here's what I think happened – you missed a Polyjuice drink and you went back to your normal body. Potter chased you to Gringotts. Yes or no."

"Yes."

"You attacked him."

"That fall should have fucking killed him."

"Why did Gilbert make you the Acting Head Auror and fire me?" I demanded.

"So I could sell the potion to her and get you two arses out of the way!"

That was all we needed to know. Weasley knocked him out with a Stunner.

"We'd better take him to the Ministry," Granger said. "And perhaps speak to Gilbert."

"I was thinking more along the lines of _arresting_ Gilbert, but okay," Weasley agreed.

"Sorry, Ministry?" Marian finally said, standing up from the couch and coming back over. Weasley jumped – I think he'd forgotten she was there; either that, or the baseball bat in her hands was putting him on edge – and Marian stared around at us. "Gilbert? I don't know these people."

I could tell Granger was about to launch into an explanation about the Wizarding World political structure, but once she gets started on that it is very difficult to get her to stop. I cut across her and said to Marian, "It's a long story. I promise I'll tell you tomorrow."

And I have – this morning, while we were hanging around St Mungo's.

"You'll tell me this instant, Draco Malfoy!"

"This instant we kind of have to arrest the Minister for Magic for corruption and abuse of power –"

"Minister for Magic. Of course." She shook her head. "What's an Or-Or?"

"Auror," Ginny corrected. "It's like your police, except for wizards and witches."

Marian stared at her into silence.

I winced and spoke up again. "Okay. So… is there anything else that we should know before we go to the Ministry?"

I looked around at the four of them. Ginny and Hermione shook their heads – so did Weasley – but Marian cleared her throat. "I'm pregnant."

Forgive me if I don't write down my emotions about that moment in your diary, Weasley. I've already waxed poetic about it in my journal, so all you need to know is that if it turns out to be a boy, we're not naming him after you. I stared at her and felt a bit lightheaded for a moment, then sucked in a tight breath. "I could have timed this evening a bit better, then," I said.

She nodded. "Just a bit, yeah."

Ginny agreed to stay with Marian and fill her in on some details. It wouldn't have been safe for her to come with us to the Ministry, anyway – a Muggle clutching a baseball bat looking like she was ready to hit everything in sight. But of course, as soon as we Apparated to the Ministry, Weasley couldn't contain his astonishment a second longer.

"A Muggle!" Weasley yelled. "_You're_ dating a _Muggle_! And you _knocked her up_?!"

I stopped and faced him. "Weasley," I said, "my daughter is non-magical and goes to a Muggle school. I _own_ a house in Muggle Kent. My son is in Ravenclaw and is best friends with Rose and Albus. I have been the Non-magical crimes Auror for two years. _Why is this coming as a surprise to you_?"

He shook his head. "Blimey, I don't know anymore. You can't do _anything _by halves. I swear to Merlin, it's one extreme or the other with you, isn't it?"

I groaned. "Can you judge me later? Please?"

"No, because I'll be rational later and that defeats the purpose," Weasley snapped. "So I'm judging you now."

…Fair enough.

"I think it's wonderful, Draco," Granger said. Small mercies. "And congratulations."

The news about Marian's pregnancy hadn't sunk in yet, but I said thanks anyway.

We were, of course, stopped at the entrance to the Ministry. It's very difficult to get into the Ministry these days – there are something like three identification stations before you even make it to the Department you want. But because I'd been 'fired' and Weasley was on forced leave, we were stopped at the entrance by the Aurors. To their credit, they did look apologetic when they said we couldn't come in without special clearance and they didn't arrest us when they saw Baddock floating along beside us unconscious. But Granger stepped forward and took over.

"Malcolm Baddock has been dead since 2018. The man posing as the Acting Head Auror is an imposter and a murderer, and even if he were not, Minister Gilbert's appointment of him in Ronald Weasley's rightful position was illegal. As far as the law is concerned, Ron Weasley is still Acting Head Auror, and Draco Malfoy is still an Auror – no special clearance needed." She smiled. "So if you'll excuse us, the Acting Head Auror is on his way to arrest the Minister for Magic for corruption and abuse of power."

Damn, Granger.

Needless to say, the Aurors happily came with us to arrest the Minister. She wasn't very popular anyway.

Now, Gilbert is strong. She was an Auror once herself before deciding she liked the power of politics better and the paycheque of the Minister. It wasn't enough, it seems – she was going to buy that Polyjuice potion of Baddock/Mills and probably sell it again herself for an even higher price. She has contacts not even Potter has (maybe) – she could have made a fortune. She's clever.

She also knew we were coming. We're digging out the corrupted Aurors now – there aren't many, thankfully, and Mills will give us the rest of the names with a bit of persuading. But someone tipped her off, so before we even reached her door, we tripped a hex.

Weasley almost got his head decapitated.

"WEASLEY!" I shouted, but he wouldn't get out of the way fast enough – so I tripped him by shooting a rope around his ankles. He crashed to the ground, Granger attacked the wards and hexes, and I crawled up next to Weasley to make sure I hadn't been too late to stop his head from getting whacked off. I hadn't been, and I was polite enough to not mention that even if he did lose his head it would have been an improvement.

"Thanks," he said, and cut through the ropes around his ankles.

"Don't mention it."

I helped him up, and Granger got us through Gilbert's tightly locked door. If anyone should be an Auror, it really ought to be her. "She's getting away!" she said, and she was right – Gilbert had jumped out of her window and was making a run for it.

Her window, mind, is a good four storeys high.

"Not on my watch," Weasley said, and jumped out of the window.

As you do.

Granger and I took the long way around.

Whatever happened down there, Weasley will have to write it his own lazy self. And preferably with a pen, because somehow between Hogwarts and now his skill with a quill and ink has become _worse_. I don't know how that's possible, but it is. So when he's more awake, or when he wants to write it himself, Weasley will say exactly what he did to disarm Gilbert and wrap her up in rope and place an anti-Disapparation spell on her.

"Who da man!" he cried, lifting his arms up and doing some odd hand gesture when he saw me and Granger approach with a small army of Aurors. I grimaced and shook my head, and his grin faltered. "No?"

"No. Please never say that again."

He shrugged, and faced Gilbert. "Giulia Gilbert, you're under arrest."

Gilbert spluttered through her bleeding nose. "I never liked you, Weasley."

"Whatever. I didn't vote for you."

"You voted for Abshott?" I asked dubiously.

"Nah, I didn't vote at all."

"Ron!" Granger cried.

"What? I didn't like either of them!"

Granger shook her head in disapproval, then stepped up to Gilbert who was being foisted up by a couple of Aurors. "Minister Gilbert," she said, "I highly recommend you find yourself a legal representative."

"And just who do you think _you_ are?" Gilbert snapped.

"Ronald Weasley's and Draco Malfoy's lawyer and the one who intends to press corruption charges against you, Minister." Granger smiled. "I look forward to seeing you in the courts."

I clapped Weasley on the shoulder.

"Ow," Weasley said, and looked down at his arm – which was bleeding very heavily and dripping down his hand and creating a small pool of blood on the ground. He swayed, now very pale, and I caught him on the way down.

"Weasley!"

"Huh," he said, losing blood by the second. "I didn't even notice."

He passed out like the drama queen he is, and we took him to St Mungo's to get patched up.

So that was yesterday. Lord Weasley is about to wake up, and I have to decide whether or not to make a copy of this diary for blackmailing purposes.

* * *

><p><em>21.01.22<em>

Malfoy, you little shit.


	11. postscript

_Disclaimer:__ This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J. K. Rowling. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended._

* * *

><p><strong>Ronald Weasley and the Midlife Crises<strong>

eleven

_from the no-longer-necessary journal of Ronald Weasley, postscript_

_15.02.22_

I've been slack with the journal, but that's okay, there's no need for it anymore. No-one has tried to wipe my memory. It's been a pretty successful month, all around! Hermione is, as always, brilliant; she's dug up charges against Gilbert I didn't even know existed, and she's having the time of her life.

Harry's made a full recovery and he's back as Head Auror. Personally, I thought I was doing a pretty awesome job on his behalf. I'm not opposed to him getting hurt on the job more often.

In other news, Malfoy's getting married to Marian and they've set a date sometime before she really starts to show. (I still can't believe he's actually marrying a Muggle. Even that's a bit extreme for just a midlife crisis. I can't believe _she's_ marrying _him_! He must've begged like there was no tomorrow.) So, yeah, I might not get to have the new Malfoy spawn named after me – pity, I reckon Ronald would be a great middle name – but at least I get to be the best man at his wedding! I'm not allowed to give the speech until they've checked it over first, though.

They just don't appreciate modern-day talk.

* * *

><p><em>18.07.22<em>

Wow, forgot I had this thing. Blimey.

Hufflepuff came back today. Just, poof, reappeared and no explanation about where they'd gone for the whole year, and Hugo still somehow managed to sit for his exams. Did really well, too. And he won't tell me or Hermione about where he went.

Freakin' Hufflepuff, man. Never going to diss that House again.

And now apparently James is the new History of Magic Professor. He just sat at the teacher's table one morning and no-one told him to go away. Geeze, if I'd known it was that easy…

* * *

><p><em>30.08.22<em>

I'm gonna kill Harry's kids.

I overheard Lily and James talking again. "Yo, Jazzo, mah man!"

"'Sup, Lilzizzle, gimme the buzz!"

"Dingo!"

Now I _know_ they're just fucking with me. Okay, so, Rose might have told me they were messing with me a few weeks ago and Hugo backed her up and called me a dork (gotta love my kids), but whatever. I think I should let Lily have her fun since she's been grounded by Ginny for failing her exams.

Oh, and I'm Hadrian's Godfather! Malfoy asked me last week, a few days after he was born. Shame he's not Hadrian Ronald, though. I did try to convince Malfoy, but Marian put her foot down and said one pretentious name was more than enough (since when is _Ronald _a pretentious name?), so the kid has no middle name to speak of. Just Hadrian Malfoy (or Halcombe-Malfoy, if you want to get technical), the first Halfblood Malfoy in Merlin knows how many generations.

Blimey. Good luck to the kid, growing up around this bunch of loonies. I'll be amazed if he only turns out to be half normal.

**the end**

* * *

><p>Stick around for the rest of the <span>journals &amp; ice cream<span> series! You can check out my profile page for more information on some of the stories, but I'm putting the full list of the titles here anyway:

1. Draco Malfoy and the Trials of Single Parenthood **[complete]  
><strong>2. Draco Malfoy and the Perils of Dating **[complete]  
><strong>3. Ronald Weasley and the Midlife Crises **[complete]  
><strong>4. Lorcan Scamander and the Year of Raging Hormones **[in progress]**  
>5. The Invention of Hugo Weasley<br>6. We Need To Talk About Lily  
>7. The Vanishing Act of Hadrian Malfoy<br>8. The Time Traveller's Husband

Yes, titles 5 to 8 are all bad puns on best-selling published books. _Don't judge me_.


End file.
